


Ruin a Good Thing

by BellarkeBelle



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 14:21:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13296711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellarkeBelle/pseuds/BellarkeBelle
Summary: Bellamy is a grad student and RA. Clarke is pre-med. They're best friends, and Clarke might be a little bit... really fucking in love with him.





	Ruin a Good Thing

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this forever ago, realized I was unabashedly throwing a fit about my own life, and left it in a file for a year. I'm posting it now because, you know, I wrote it. Sending my love to everyone, in this fandom that doesn't seem to die :)

It becomes a regular occurrence, somehow. She slips her way into his room, closing the door behind her, stepping toward him with heat already blooming low and gentle within her. He never fails to receive her, accommodating her presence with his own, pulling her into a slow, deliberate press of his lips against hers, hands firm on her waist as her own arms curl around him. There’s nothing outwardly romantic in the pattern they develop, but something in her chest pulls and pangs like a guitar string when they touch like this, with intent, something that might break if it twists any tighter. 

The rest of her melts. 

The first time was far from premeditated. He had been three hours deep into some massive research paper on homosexuality in ancient Greece while she picked half-heartedly at her own neuroscience. As they’d worked she’d traveled from a chair to the floor, from the floor to a sprawl, and from a sprawl to leaning with her back against his legs. As she moved, physically, he thoughts drifted as well, her earlier conversation with Raven springing, unwelcome, to mind. 

_“I’m just saying if you don’t jump him, I will.”_

_“You already did that.”_

_They were grabbing lunch at_ Local Color, _a coffee shop on campus filled with art made by local artists. Clarke couldn’t help but smile when she went in, her eye drawn to the back corner and her pieces that were displayed there._

_“Exactly Griffin, and you know that if I’m willing to allow a repeat performance, this kid is good in the sack.”_

_“Go tell O that, I’m sure she’d love to hear it.”_

_“When I tried she almost knocked me out with a frying pan. The girl’s crazy.”_

_When Clarke had only laughed Raven shook her head, “I’m serious, Clarke. You love sex way too much to go this long without it. At this point, it’s for your own good.”_

_“We’re friends, Ray. I’m not about to fuck it up because my libido’s getting demanding.”_

_“You fucked me without fucking anything up.” Her friend had pointed out._

_“That’s different and you know it.”_

_“Oh yeah, and why’s that?”_

Clarke scowled at the memory, doing her best to shake it off. Raven knew why she hadn’t answered the last question - they both did. 

“You okay, Clarke?” Long fingers stroked briefly through her hair, getting her attention.

“Yeah I’m fine.” She offered half a smile, “Pre-med just sucks.”

“You could always be a grad student still RA-ing for freshmen. Living in a single bedroom. It’s really great. I’m so glad I chose a major with no applicability to the labor market.”

She grinned, then sighed. She was about to do something very dumb, with no promise of reward. “I think I need a study break.” 

“I’ve got pizza bagels in the freezer.” He didn’t even look up from the mess of books and articles in his lap, and she took a moment to consider her own predictability. 

“You know, scientists recommend movement breaks to promote effective studying.”

“Just don’t wake up any of my freshmen - they’re loud when they’re cranky.” 

She twisted to look at him. “Improved circulation, improved alertness, focus - much better than pizza bagels.”

He finally looked at her, chewed up highlighter still trapped between his teeth. “Clarke?” 

She turned to face him fully, sliding further between his legs, “Endorphins, dopamine… sex is the most productive study break there is. I’d put it right up there with naps and netflix.”

“Are you saying sex is better than netflix? I’m pretty sure that’s blasphemy.”

“I’m saying it’s at least better _for_ you.”

“Oh, well in that case.” He gestured as if to say _go on_.

When Clarke didn’t waver, Bellamy cocked an eyebrow. Steady fingers reached down, pulled his shirt off over his head. 

“This better not be some kind of joke, Princess.” He whispered, the bravado that steeped his everyday life absent for once. Clarke smiled, soft and a little dazed before leaning forward, pressing a quick kiss to the toned planes of his stomach as she unbuttoned his jeans, sliding the zipper down just this side of slow. She felt like she should be surprised at the ease with which he accepted her proposition. It wasn’t that Bellamy was a hard sell. He loved sex. He had sex as often as his hectic schedule allowed - though he rarely saw anyone regularly enough for it to be more than that. It was just, those girls weren’t usually people he knew. For some reason, she’d thought he might protest, might give the excuses she gave everyone else; their friendship was too important to risk, they cared about each other too much to fuck around - but there was nothing. She pushed the thought away.

Settling her weight carefully she looked up at where Bellamy was watching her, eyes darkening, curls as unruly as ever. Her eyes tracked his hand as he pulled out his cock for her, jerking it with quick, efficient strokes that gave her all the information she needed for the next six months of late-night fantasies. She removed his hand gently. “I think I got it from here, Bell.” 

The low noise he made in response went straight to her core, and she mirrored him unconsciously as he bit his own lip. Shaking off the vestiges of hesitation she took a deep breath and licked up the length of the vein beneath the shaft, revelling in the soft hitch in his breath. The hitch escalated to a quiet gasp as she took the head into her mouth, slipping the tip of her tongue across the slit and sucking gently, before sliding her mouth down to take in more of his length. Every sound Bellamy made urged her on, sending hot pulses to her core, her inner thighs beginning to slick. As she sucked and bobbed she slid her hands up the firm muscle of his thighs, slipping her reaching fingers to curl around his hip bones, humming at the feel of his abs as they flexed beneath her touch.

“Fuck, Clarke.” He muttered, almost to himself, head dropping back as he took an unsteady breath. After a beat he reached one hand down to tangle into her hair. She made a noise of approval that had his hips jerking forward. “Sorry.” He breathed, visibly controlling himself. 

She pulled off to lick and suck at the head, watching him fight to calm himself. She couldn’t help but smile when his other hand came down to cover one of hers, the other still firmly twisted against the nape of her neck. 

“Okay?” 

She nodded, leaning forward to take him into her mouth even as he began to guide her, gently but firmly, back toward his cock. She swallowed the giggle that rose in her throat as the unbreakable discipline began to crack beneath his own desire, demonstrating eagerness hitherto unseen even by her. 

“God, you’re so good for me Princess. What a perfect fucking mouth, Jesus, Baby, just like that, yeah?” 

She whined helplessly as the words began to spill, almost unbidden, from his lips.

“Oh you like it when I talk, Princess? That’s good to know. You look so good down there Sweetheart, fucking long-ass eyelashes, you really do look like a princess. Oh, _shit_ , that feels so good Baby, so - _ah_ \- so damn good. Right there, yeah, right there. God, do you even know what you do to me?”

Bellamy broke off suddenly, a low groan rumbling from his chest that she answered with her own. He was panting, hips stuttering forward, fingers tight in her hair, and she answered the pull, speeding up, sucking harder.

“Fuck, Baby, so good for me. You k-know that, right? _Ah!_ You’re so good for me.” 

Not more than a few minutes passed before he was pulling her back gently, “Going to- going to- Come here, yeah?” 

He pulled her to rest against thigh, jerking himself off with quick, sure strokes with his free hand. She licked deliberately at the base of his cock, tracing her tongue down to move, flat, against his balls. He groaned through his jagged breathing and came with a growl that made her cunt clench, empty. 

“Jesus, Clarke.” He laughed as he came to, slumped back in the chair. “That’s your idea of a study break?” 

“Oh, we’re not done.” She grinned, tugging his jeans the rest of the way off. “It’s my turn.” 

His eyes glinted with interest as she rose to straddle him, his hands coming to hold her hips. “Oh yeah?”

“Show me what you got, Blake.” She offered half a smile before leaning in to kiss him. He met her with intention, hands sliding up to her waist as they settled into each other, lips sliding soft against each other. They kissed slow and dirty, licking and biting as she rolled against his pubic bone, trying to relieve the need that throbbed hot and insistent in her clit, cunt, and core. 

“Why are you wearing so many clothes, goddamn.” Bellamy muttered, pulling back.

She laughed and raised her arms obediently as he tugged off her shirt. “Oh shit, Princess.” 

He bent to mouth at her breasts. “I love these. These are my favorite. Oh my god. Get this fucking thing off.” His fingers scrabbled at the clasp of her bra before flicking it off in a moment of his usual deft capability.

“Jesus” He managed, before leaning in to take one of her nipples into his mouth. She keened as he kneaded her other breast with firm competency, sucking accented by the gentle scrape of his teeth. 

“B-bellamy.” She whined, hips rolling faster as he hardened beneath her. 

“Get on the bed, Princess.” The command was growled as if with the last vestiges of his self control and she threw herself toward the bed with matching energy. Within moments Bellamy was caging her in, yanking off her jeans and dragging down her panties with utter urgency.

“What do you want, Sweetheart? God, tell me, anything, please. Let me take care of you. Come on, Baby, let me make you feel good.” 

She whimpered and squirmed beneath him, trying to force her brain to conjure words while he looked at her like that, eyesdark and hungry. “Want you.” She managed, adding in a panic, “Don’t stop talking.”

He grinned wryly, “You like it when I talk, Baby?” 

“Touch me.” She pleaded, “Come on, Bell, please.” 

“As the princess commands.” He promised, sitting up and pulling her back into his lap in one motion. This time her back was pressed into his chest, his cock pinned between her ass and his stomach.

“Spread your legs, Sweetheart.” He murmured, tugging at her earlobe with his teeth. She complied automatically, breath hitching. 

His hands were beautiful. She watched as one snaked its way between her legs, rubbing slowly and deliberately up and down her slit, fingers slick. The other held her close, massaging her breast just as slow and deliberate. 

“Bell, _Bell,_ please, come on.” She urged, squirming as she leaned back into him.

“Shh, none of that, Princess. I’ll take care of you. God, you’re so wet. You got this wet from sucking me?”

“You make the best noises Bell. And you talk. It’s so hot. God, Bell, it’s so fucking hot.”

“Yeah? You like the sounds I make when you take me apart like that? You like how I sound when I’m drowning in you? You feel so good, Baby, made me come so hard I couldn’t see.”

“Come on, Bell.” She begged, yelping when he pulled his hand from her slit to slap her clit. It was just hard enough to leave her unsteady and sucking in air, but not so hard it didn’t feel _oh-so-good._

“I told you I’d take care of you, Princess, you gotta trust me.” He circled her clit gently, and she pressed into the welcome contact. “Can I eat you out, Sweetheart? Or do you want me to take you just like this, bouncing on my cock, legs spread so nice so I can get my hands on your clit.” A steady hand pushed her hair to the side so he could mouth at her neck. She moaned, cunt clenching involuntary. 

“Want, want your mouth on me, Bell. And your fingers in me. Your cock in me. I want everything. Fuck - Bell hurry up please, need - need something so bad it hurts. Please, fuck, Bell, please.” 

“Okay, Baby, I got you, come on.” He laid back, feet still firm on the floor, pushing her to the side so she could turn to straddle his face. “Just like that sweet girl, that’s it.” 

The first press of his tongue to her clit nearly had her sobbing in relief, and she ground down against the flat plane of his mouth he proffered. Immediate concerns met, Bellamy licked eagerly into her, delving as far into her cunt as he could, tongue fucking her with enough force she moved with it. His fingers pressed into her hips, and she braced herself against the wall, helpless noises falling from her lips. Before long he resumed his licks along her slit, coming nearer and nearer to where she needed him. 

“Bel-lamy” She gasped, one hand dropping to twist into his curls, trying to pull him, push him - anything. He hummed acknowledgement right as he began to suck over her clit, tongue lashing designs that made her head spin. Some distant part of her remembered that college dorms have thin walls and interconnected vents, but silence was out of the question, her grinding punctuated by “ahs” of exclamation and gasps as she desperately tried to get enough air. 

Suddenly she found herself flipped onto her back, Bellamy rolling with her easily, chasing her cunt, lips shiny and eyes black. She watched hungrily as the muscles in his back flexed and stretched, his mouth - _his fucking mouth_. Her fingers tangled back into his hair, pulling him closer as every nerve ending in her body sang in total pleasure at the heat and wet and perfect pressure and rhythm and fucking _everything_. Shocks rocked through her when she saw his hips stuttering into the mattress with barely-controlled urgency. Seeing how affected he was just from eating her out almost sent he over the edge and she clenched down involuntarily several times before she could catch her breath. His fingers thrust smoothly into her cunt and she couldn’t help the cry of surprise and pleasure as he sought and found the angle he was chasing. She couldn’t last long after that, the barrage on her senses too much as she writhed among the sheets that smelled like Bellamy, helpless against his mouth on her clit, his fingers in her cunt. She came with a shout, arching off the bed as her vision went white. Every spasm that rocked through her knocked the air from her lungs and her hands flexed, holding him tight between her legs. He didn’t seem to mind, sucking and licking gently as she worked her way through her orgasm and the aftershocks, only leaving her when she pushed him away. 

“Jesus, Bell. Is there anything you’re bad at?”

Bellamy huffed a laugh where he had slumped onto her stomach. “You think we have time for one more?”

“We have all the time in the world as far as I’m concerned.” She grinned, carding her hands through his hair, smile softening when he hummed at her touch. 

“Good, because I want to fuck you.” 

She moaned softly at the thought. “We should do this all the time.”

“I think we’d both fail out of school.” 

“But it would be so worth it.”

“You’re right, you’re so fucking right.” They both grinned before Bellamy pulled himself up to hover above her, leaning in to kiss her, sweet and thorough. “Turn over?”

“Yes, definitely yes.” 

She her face into the pillows, turns to gasp in air when he pushes into her. Her body adjusts almost as it happens, like she’s welcoming him. 

“Jesus, Bell.”

“Fuck, Clarke. You’re fantastic.” 

It’s like they can do no wrong. Every rhythm they aim for they meet, moving in tandem, a push and pull set to the beating of their hearts and even as she keens into his university-issued mattress she realizes she’s in too deep. His hands are everywhere, fingers doing impossible things and she wonders how many times she can come in one night only after she’s lost count. 

When he slumps over her, spent, she revels in his arms around her, his fingers carding through her hair - the gentle kisses he leaves on her shoulder.

And she gives in to sleep.

That’s how it starts.

 

They still hang out with O and Raven, and sometimes with his weird friends who are quiet but clever. They go to the movies and take any and every opportunity to get off campus without spending any money. They study together, fall asleep in the library together, and nothing… nothing changes at all. Sure, they fuck like bunnies, but _they_ don’t change, even a little. 

She asks him about it one day. Asks him if any of the hesitation she had expected from that first time had secretly been there, if maybe he’d worried, for a moment at least, that they could be fucking up something good. 

He’d just smiled lazily at her, told her, “You’re my best friend, Clarke. We couldn’t fuck this up if we tried.” And then he’d kissed her, once, very sweet and gentle, before rolling back over to his mess of a dissertation, gone from the modern world once more. 

She didn’t know why the knot in her stomach only sank heavier into the pit of her gut, why she felt that, despite his assurances they might be able to fuck it up after all. That maybe they already had.

**Author's Note:**

> Take time to take care of yourselves please! Let me know how you feel about my ooc temper tantrum in the comments ;)


End file.
